


Ignition

by SilyaBeeodess



Series: Tales of the Fire Spirits [2]
Category: A Hat in Time (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22416985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilyaBeeodess/pseuds/SilyaBeeodess
Summary: A young prince braces himself as he waits to receive news from a far-off law school.
Series: Tales of the Fire Spirits [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1613302
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	Ignition

He wasn't even hungry! The young man looked down at the bag of roasted chestnuts in his hands with a tight, awkward frown. The purchase at a small cart at the edge of the village marketplace had been an impulse buy, a case of nerves that knotted his stomach and beckoned him to do something— anything—to chase the feeling away. The cheerful call of the masked vendor selling them had been a more-than-welcomed distraction at the time only for him to regret it the moment after. Money wasn't an issue, but he cursed his own slip in reason.

He was Queen Vanessa's prince. If she would have him, he intended to marry her. However, it wasn't just about them: His betrothal to Vanessa would mean that their territories would merge and they would share responsibility over the people of Subcon Forest. He had to ensure that he led with a just hand. From a young age, he had poured himself into his studies to prepare for his turn to rule. Years of private lessons and observing court practices had given him a well-taught lawyer's skill. He had even taken the position of a defense attorney in a few cases—although he was certain that both the judges and juries had favored him for his title alone. To them, his word _was_ law.

He didn't want that, and—although he was happy to win—it didn't seem as though there was anyone in Subcon willing to give him an honest challenge. He wanted to judge fairly, to see all of the angles, to understand the system that would fall into his lap before corrupt advisors even had the _chance_ to spoon-feed him a well-oiled lie.

Which was why the prince had applied to join one of the best law academies in the land the following term. It would mean leaving his princess behind for a time _if_ they accepted him, but it also meant that he would better serve at her side. Not that he had explained that to her yet: As of now, there was no guarantee he would even get in—despite his royal lineage. He also honestly wasn't sure how she'd take the news. He supposed, if it came to it, he could blame it on his parents, but the thought made him sick. Vanessa wasn't always rational, but she was open with her feelings: How could he ever ask for her hand if he couldn't be equally as honest?

The prince was only a short walk away from his home when he stopped in his tracks and plopped down on a nearby bench with a weary sigh, pulling his cloak even more tightly around him to fight off the chill in the air. The last leaves were falling. Winter was coming. While the first snow had yet to fall, a light frost had already gathered along the forest floor. The Academy's letter should've arrived that very day: He was impatient to hear from them, but also anxious. He didn't want to go home just yet, left to stew with his own, frazzled thoughts in the confines of his study.

What if he wasn't good enough? What if he didn't get accepted? What if he _did?_ What would he do then?

"Food?"

The warbling, high-pitched voice pulled his attention down to the patch of earth near his feet. Although he inwardly cringed at the sudden interruption, he wasn't actually surprised by the sight of a fire spirit standing next to him. They usually kept a certain distance, but they weren't flighty creatures either. Everyone who lived in the Subcon Forest was bound to see them up close at least once. A few stayed close to his home and he had seen them like this multiple times already.

The fire spirit—young enough that it barely reached his knees—was sniffing at the bag in his limp grasp. It blinked at it, then up at him, then would drop its gaze again. The chestnuts. With a tired smirk, the prince plucked a few from the bag, the momentary withdrawal beckoning the creature to inch closer to his side before he set the small pile away from him on the bench.

"Be my guest," he offered, although he wasn't entirely sure how well the fox understood him. Typically, only the oldest spirits could somewhat master human language. " _Someone_ should get to enjoy them anyway."

Even if it could decipher his words, the fire spirit's focus was already drawn to the chestnuts. Little fingers clasped the first one and, with a squirrel's rapid speed, peeled away the outer shell before plopping the treat into its mouth. The shell immediately followed after. He chuffed at the nonsensical action.

They could sometimes be a nuisance, but he had to admit that he did enjoy watching them. They were strange creatures whose ways of life were curious and ancient. Beyond legends and speculation, their timeless dances were the only real aspect of their culture that any Dweller grasped, if only because the mythical barriers the spirits summoned in the process disturbed their daily lives.

He felt the heat of a warm body close behind him before he heard the voice this time, "Food?"

He turned his head to the other side. Another one… two fire spirits had snuck up beside him, the second clinging to the back of the bench-almost pressing itself against him—and the third leaning against the front with its head resting on the seat. _Now_ he was a little nervous. Overall, the fire spirits didn't seem to mean much harm, but they did have the occasional habit of making mischief, such as kidnapping travelers on the forest roads like the one they were on now. People hardly had to worry about the little ones—even the adult fire spirits could be chased away so long as there was only one or two to face—but for a moment he wondered just how many it would take to overwhelm him.

Fortunately, like the first, the newcomers were far more interested in his food than they were in himself. The second fox by his legs emboldened itself enough to creep over and lightly tug on the bag, prompting the one behind him to clamor over the back of the bench and onto his shoulder. The prince froze. Soon, all three fire spirits were climbing over him to reach for more chestnuts, tiny hands and feet poking at his body to find purchase wherever they could.

"Alright, calm down!" he raised his voice, trying not to squirm as he pulled the bag away with an outstretched hand. He poured its contents out on the seat beside him. "There's plenty for all of you!"

Scooting away, he eyed the trio as they cried out in twittering glee and piled together around the chestnuts. Eager, little hands fed grinning mouths and fiery tails flickered in content with every bite. Now free from their vying grasp—all save for one that continued to sit against his leg like its own, personal cushion—he exhaled in relief. The prince muttered, "Mooches, all of you…" but all the while a smile played on his lips.

" _Roasted, toasted! Tasty, yum!"_ Each of them warbled in a sing-song voice, their voices overlapping in a cheerful chorus as they ate. With the large bounty split between the three of them, they each now took their time enjoying the snack. The prince reclined against the bench and enjoyed the bundle of heat the three naturally emitted, which only seemed to radiate more from their feeding. Little did he know that the fire spirits were equally as content under the warmth of his own person.

Several minutes passed and the prince was lulled into a kind of subconscious rest; never falling asleep, but in a peaceful enough state to spare a moment with his eyes closed. He didn't realize just how tired he was. Worrying about the Academy, about Vanessa, about the future… It was taking its toll on him. Vanessa was already the crowned ruler of her territory and everything was going according to her plans: He had to turn his own into action.

"Your Highness?"

It wasn't one of the fire spirits: If somewhat nasally, the voice was too masculine. The prince cracked open an eye to see the local messenger hold out a sealed envelope toward him, short breaths curling in front of the mouth of his elk-shaped mask. The former sprang up in his seat, startling the foxes. He also noticed that the messenger kept a certain distance from him; though whether it was out of respect, the presence of the fire spirits, or both, he didn't know.

He opened his mouth in greeting, but for a strange change found he was unable to speak as his nerves gripped him once again. So he just took the offered envelope and gave the messenger a brief nod in thanks before settling back down. While the messenger jogged down the trail toward the village, he stared hard at the paper. It was from the Academy, written in the Dean's elegant hand.

"What is? What this?" came the voices surrounding him on the bench, curious noses sniffing at the paper.

Excitement and dread fell over him at once. He wanted to rip the letter open right then, but he was scared of whatever it might say. _Maybe I should wait until I'm home,_ he mused. _Surely mother and father would want to hear the news firsthand, whatever it may be._ Or maybe not. If his application had been rejected, that would mean he'd have to immediately brace himself for the disappointment that would almost definitely follow. Maybe it was better that he waited until he was safe within the privacy of his own room—

Other creatures had other plans. While the last two fire spirits had brought their attention back on their food, the first one placed a hand to the letter and ignited it. The prince's eyes widened in panic. Jumping from seat, he first waved the letter in the air only for it to spark with an even greater flame, so—after a quick glance around—he knelt low and pressed it to the frost-covered ground.

When he examined the letter a second time, he found that the fire spirit's magic had been concentrated enough to only burn the seal away. He fought to recollect himself after the false alarm, the foxes relaxing with him in turn. They regrouped around him as he sat with his lips slightly pursed at the envelope. Now that the seal _was_ broken, it mocked him.

He opened the letter and felt his heart lighten a little.


End file.
